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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28351803">The Christmas Star</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mksc77/pseuds/mksc77'>mksc77</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Major Crimes (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:01:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,220</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28351803</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mksc77/pseuds/mksc77</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharon and Andy arrive early in Park City for Christmas with Sharon’s family for a little alone time before the rest of the large family arrives.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Andy Flynn/Sharon Raydor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Christmas Star</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For purposes of this story, there is no covid :)</p><p>“Ahhh, it doesn’t feel like Christmas until I get here.”Sharon looked around the familiar Park City house, which was already decorated.“<em>God</em>, I love this house.”The rest of the O’Dwyer brood would begin arriving the next day, but she and Andy had decided to come a little early. </p><p> </p><p>“This is a great place to come, winter or summer,” Andy agreed.“How long have your parents had this house? Or part of it, anyway?”</p><p> </p><p>“I was pregnant with Emily the first time we came, so...Wow, I can’t believe it’s been thirty-seven years.” Sharon shivered and placed the grocery bags in her hands on the kitchen counter. It was thirty-six degrees and so windy outside that they’d had trouble getting themselves up the steps. Their luggage was going to have to wait until the wind died down.“We have <em>got</em> to turn the heat up.”</p><p> </p><p>Andy set down the grocery bags in his hands and wrapped his arm around her waist.“I can help you with that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nuh-uh, you’re not getting <em>that</em> kind of heat until we get some <em>real</em> heat.”Sharon went to the living room to turn the knob of the thermostat before switching on the gas logs and getting as close to them as she could without crawling into the fireplace.“I am <em>not</em> built for the cold.” </p><p> </p><p>“Neither am I.”Andy shrugged out of his coat before hurrying over to the hearth and cuddling close to Sharon.Once they’d thawed out a bit, he braved the wind and cold again to get the remaining groceries from the rental car.“<em>Damn</em>, that wind is crazy.”He sifted through the grocery bags for a bottle of wine.“You want a glass of wine?”After a couple of delays at the airport, nauseating turbulence, and then a slow and winding drive to the house in the mountains, they’d arrived two hours later than planned, and he imagined she was ready for a drink. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> <br/>
<br/>
</span></p><p>Sharon shook her head.  “I’m going to try out a couple of the Christmas cocktail recipes I found.”  She mixed up a concoction of tequila, sprite, pineapple juice, and cranberry juice before taking a slow sip.  “Oh, my, this is too good.  There are going to be some inebriated O’Dwyers here tomorrow night.”</p><p> </p><p>Andy rolled his eyes.“And <em>loud</em>, but how is that different from any other Christmas?”</p><p> </p><p>Sharon shrugged.“You’re right about that.” </p><p> </p><p>Once the groceries were unpacked, Sharon found a couple of the warmest blankets and got settled on the large, comfortable couch while Andy checked on a few things around the house.Everything was supposed to be taken care of before they arrived, but Andy always liked to double-check if they were the first to get there.“Let me guess, <em>Meet Me in St. Louis</em>?” Andy asked as Sharon logged in to her HBO Max account on the TV.</p><p> </p><p>Sharon nodded. “I can’t believe I haven’t watched it yet this year.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not complaining, maybe I’ll just have to sit through it three times this year instead of ten.”</p><p> </p><p>Sharon elbowed him in his side as he got comfortable beside her.“I have <em>never</em> watched it ten times in one year.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve come pretty close, babe.”</p><p> </p><p>A little while later, Sharon made cauliflower mashed potatoes while Andy got their fish ready for the grill and prepared some asparagus to put in the oven.Sharon had admittedly been a little wary of the cauliflower substitution when Andy had first introduced them to her, but they were delicious. </p><p>By the time dinner preparations were underway, the sun was starting to set.  Sharon got a glass of wine and a blanket and joined Andy on the porch, where he was putting the fish on the grill.  He’d already dragged one of the space heaters out from the screened-in part of the porch, knowing she’d want to sit outside for a while.  The wind had finally calmed down some, and with the lake, the snow on the ground from the day before, and the last of the fall leaves adding some color to the snow, the winter sunset was like a picture of Christmas. </p><p> </p><p>Sharon started her Christmas playlist as Andy closed the grill and wedged into her chair beside her. <em>White Christmas </em>had never been one of her favorites, but she <em>did</em> like this Otis Redding version.It was December 21, and she’d been hearing about the “Christmas Star” being visible in the night sky for the first time in centuries.It had been talked up too much for her to expect much from it, but she was still interested to see it.Once the last streaks of the sun were disappearing behind the mountain, they started searching the sky. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, there it is!” Sharon pointed to a spot near the moon a few minutes later. </p><p> </p><p>Andy followed her finger with his eyes.“Oh, yeah, I saw that...That’s it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Must be.”Sharon shrugged. “I wasn’t expecting much, but it’s more distinctive than I thought it would be. That’s pretty neat.”She shivered against the chill of the mountain air and snuggled more deeply into Andy.A little while later, he started to get up.</p><p> </p><p>“No, stay here,” Sharon mumbled against his chest. </p><p> </p><p>“If I don’t get up, then the fish is going to burn,” Andy pointed out with a smile.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t care.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I do, I don’t want to have to start dinner all over again.”Andy tried to maneuver himself out from under Sharon.</p><p> </p><p>“Just wait until this song is over.”</p><p> </p><p>“All right,” Andy conceded. </p><p> </p><p>Sharon released a contented sigh and relaxed against him.She wasn’t a big fan of country music, but Dolly Parton was an exception. The song playing was one of her favorites.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The fire is slowly fading, chill is in the air<br/>
</em>
  <em>All the gifts are waiting for children everywhere</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Through the window I can see the snow begin to fall</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Knowing you’re in love with me is the greatest gift of all</em>
</p><p> </p><p>By Christmas Eve, they had a full house.Not everyone was able to make it every year, obviously, but they’d managed to get everyone there this year.“We should probably start making cookies for Santa,” Kate commented after dinner.</p><p> </p><p>“No Santa! I can’t want him!” Marie protested, her toddler tongue not being so great with word usage.At two years old, she was petrified of the idea of Santa, and Sharon couldn’t blame her. She could see how the whole concept was a bit creepy to a small child.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re just going to make cookies, and Santa’s just going to leave you some presents tonight.You won’t see him, I promise,” Sharon assured her granddaughter as she gathered her in her arms.  She turned to Kate.  “I’ll help the kids with the cookies, but then it’s my turn to hold that baby,” she said, nodding at her niece’s newborn in her sister’s arms.  Their family had been growing like crazy in the last few years. </p><p> </p><p>Kate nodded.“Deal.”</p><p> </p><p>Emily rolled her eyes.“I love how you guys are suddenly worried about making cookies.If it hadn’t been for Mimi and Aunt Beth, all we would’ve done on Christmas Eve is get a couple of cookies out of a pack of Chips Ahoy.”</p><p> </p><p>Sharon ignored Emily and led the kids into the kitchen. Claire and Carter, at six and three, were the only ones really interested in leaving cookies for Santa, but Marie was always eager to do what the older ones were doing and got excited right along with them, temporarily forgetting her fear of Santa.Andy followed her, grateful for an escape from the O’Dwyer cacophony in the living room. </p><p> </p><p>Sharon smiled as Andy followed her and started getting ingredients out.“Uncle Andy knows how to make the <em>best</em> cookies.”</p><p> </p><p>“Papa no <em>like</em> cookies, Bammy,” Marie corrected her, not quite having grasped the enunciation of “Gammy” yet.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>What</em> do you know about <em>Papa no like cookies</em>,” Sharon cooed, always surprised at what Marie picked up on.While Andy had avoided sweets for years, now, he knew his mom’s recipe for chocolate chip cookies by heart and had made them for gatherings at work or with friends several times before, and they were the best she’d ever tasted. </p><p> </p><p>“All right, Claire-bear, want to measure out the flour for me?”Andy got a couple of measuring spoons from a drawer.“Fill this one and put it in the bowl twice, and then just once with the smaller one.”Claire carefully did as she was told, but there was still a good bit of flour on the counter when she was finished.“That’s okay, honey, the bigger the mess, the better the cookies.”Andy lifted Carter onto the counter before measuring out the salt and handing it to him.“Okay, that’s next.” </p><p> </p><p>Sharon turned the oven on to preheat, then passed Marie to Andy so she could add the baking soda.Once that mixture was set aside and Claire had measured out the sugar to add to a separate bowl with butter, Andy retrieved the electric beater and mixed the butter and sugar.Sharon had once asked him why he didn’t just combine all of the ingredients at once, but the <em>did you seriously just ask me that</em> look she’d gotten had kept her from asking again.</p><p> </p><p>Sharon watched as Andy patiently taught Claire how to crack an egg and get the contents into the bowl without the eggshells.It took a few eggs and a few times of rinsing out the bowl, but she finally got it.Sharon never got tired of watching Andy with children.He was always so patient and knew how to make them laugh.Once the egg and vanilla were added to the mix, Andy turned the beater back on.He switched it off when he was satisfied and placed the bowl with the flour mixture in Carter’s hands.“Okay, kid, dump that in for us.”The three-year-old happily complied, but put his hands over his ears before the beater could even start up again.Andy put Marie down before moving Carter from the counter to the floor.“We’re done, now, Aunt Sharon and I will just get them ready to put them in the oven, and they’ll be ready in a little while.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hold on, let me clean you guys up first before we get in trouble with your parents.”Sharon started with Marie and managed to get the flour off of the wriggling toddler’s face and hands.Andy hadn’t been able to resist dabbing flour on the kids as they worked, which had earned him shrieks and giggles each time.Both of his hands were completely coated in flour by the time they were finished. </p><p> </p><p>Once the kids were clean and out of the kitchen, Sharon cleaned up the mess and handwashed the used bowls, as the dishwasher was already humming, before helping Andy spoon out the cookie dough onto a baking sheet.Andy lightly smacked her butt, flat-palmed, and after a couple of White Christmas Martinis, the state of Andy’s hands hadn’t registered with Sharon.Until later that night when they were getting ready for bed.Sharon held up the black pants she’d been wearing before she folded them.“What’s tha—<em>Andy</em>!”Though faded, it was still obvious that the white mark had once been a handprint.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Andy asked, failing at sounding innocent. </p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean, <em>what</em>, I’ve been walking around with a handprint on my ass for the last two hours!”</p><p> </p><p>Andy lost the struggle and started laughing.“<em>Yeah</em>, you have.” </p><p> </p><p>Sharon rolled her eyes and placed her folded clothes in her suitcase before jumping into bed, her bare legs cold where her nightgown didn’t reach.Andy climbed in beside her, and they snuggled together against the cold sheets, trying to warm up.“I love you,” Andy murmured into her hair.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you.Merry Christmas.”Sharon cuddled into Andy’s side, still not quite warm enough.She felt like she’d barely fallen asleep when Andy was excitedly shaking her awake.“<em>What</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>“Get up, it’s Christmas!”</p><p> </p><p>“And we’re both over sixty, I haven’t felt compelled to get out of bed at dawn in a few decades.” </p><p> </p><p>“But I don’t want to miss the kids getting up, come on!” </p><p> </p><p>Sharon rubbed her eyes.“They won’t even be getting <em>up</em> until—Ugh, fine.”She fumbled along her nightstand for her glasses and sat up.“You can be worse than a child sometimes, you know that?”</p><p> </p><p>A couple of hours later, there were three squealing children in the living room, and Sharon was in better spirits now that she’d had some coffee and there was a mimosa in her hand. Her other arm was occupied with the newest member of the family, her niece’s two-month-old.Holding babies she wasn’t responsible for and watching children get excited over toys she’d hadn’t had to buy, put together, or worry about getting home was the best.She <em>did</em> sometimes miss Emily and Ricky being small, especially at Christmas, but she did <em>not</em> miss the headache that came with assembling toys into the wee hours on Christmas morning. Yes, she was perfectly happy with this stage in her life, watching the next generation take over the parenting roles with her delicious husband at her side.</p><p> </p>
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